


Of Reindeer and Thestrals

by softiejace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Baby Harry Potter, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Godfather Sirius Black, M/M, Marauders, Post-Marauders' Era, everyone is happy, jily, wolfstar, you could say they've... made the yuletide really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:07:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13143474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softiejace/pseuds/softiejace
Summary: Christmas at the Potters' place, or The One In which Remus thinks he's being led on and Sirius doesn't believe who leads Santa's sleigh.





	Of Reindeer and Thestrals

**Author's Note:**

> Initially written as a christmas gift to a friend. I noticed afterwards that a baby born in July would either be too old not to speak properly or too young to walk, so please bear with me...  
> Merry Christmas everyone!

Remus lets out a sigh as he sits down next to Sirius, sinking back into the sofa.

“Now it’s really Christmas,” he murmurs, eyes half closed as he takes a sip of his mug of hot steaming cocoa. 

Sirius looks up from watching the cat play with one of the baubles at the lower branches of the tree, and snorts when he discovers the cause of Remus’ joy. 

“What, now that you’ve got your daily minimum intake of chocolate?” 

“Shut up.” 

Sirius grins, opening his mouth to comment on the moustache the cream has left on his boyfriend’s top lip when a small voice calls his name – or rather a special version of his nickname. 

“Paffoo.” 

Harry waddles into the living room, clutching a biscuit in his hand and leaving a trail of crumbs on the floor leading back all the way to the kitchen, no doubt. But what catches Sirius’ attention is his headdress: a pair of plush looking brown antlers. 

Sirius laughs softly. “Well, look at you, little deer.” He holds out his hands and Harry stumbles straight into them with a squeal of mirth. 

Remus observes fondly as Sirius lifts the toddler, sitting him down on his thigh. He can’t help but correct him, though. 

“Reindeer.” 

Sirius, now focused on making Harry giggle as he pretend-wrestles him for the biscuit, only acknowledges the comment with a low, uncomprehending “Hmm?”. 

Remus places his mug on the sofa table and reaches for Harry who beams at him as Sirius reluctantly hands him on. (He’s quite the jealous godfather, not much to Remus’ surprise.) 

With the youngest Potter family member sitting securely on his lap, Remus points out first the antlers, then the red smear of paint on Harry’s nose. 

“He’s a reindeer, not a deer. Obviously.” 

Sirius’ gaze wanders from Harry, who’s concerned with nothing but munching on his cookie now that it’s safe from Uncle Padfoot, to Remus. 

“Why?” Sirius asks finally. 

Remus blinks. “What do you mean, why?” 

“Why’s he supposed to be a reindeer? How does that make more sense than him being a deer because of Prongs?” 

Remus raises an eyebrow. “Okay, now you’re having me on. Haven’t you seen that Harry’s nose is red?” 

Sirius shrugs. “So what? His cheeks are, too. He’s probably been outside. Think Pete and James are still working on that snowman double of Snivellus.” 

Remus wipes the crumbs off Harry’s Christmas jumper and makes a mental note to Evanesco them before Lily comes in. “If Harry had been outside without a coat and hat he’d have turned into a little sniffellus himself by now,” he murmurs. 

A pillow hits him in the side of the head and he turns to glare at Sirius who’s trying to look annoyed at the pun, but frankly seems much more intrigued than he’d ever let on. 

“Seriously – and don’t you dare laugh at that – even if it’s not from the cold, what’s a red nose got to do with reindeer, anyway?” 

He’s facing Remus now, one leg drawn up onto the sofa, and doesn’t even seem to notice that Harry’s throwing crumbs at him. 

Remus kisses the little rascal on the cheek and puts him down on the floor from where he immediately sets off to play with the cat (that luckily is quite indulgent to little hands tugging on its tail). 

“Sirius.” 

Bright, grey eyes stare back with blank, honest curiosity. 

“I’m still not convinced you’re not completely shitting me, but for the love of Merlin – surely you know Rudolph?” 

The look of bewilderment on Sirius’ face would send Remus into hysterics if he wasn’t half suspecting this is all a big ruse on behalf of James and Sirius. 

“Who the –“, Sirius uses a very unholy word that Remus hopes Harry hasn’t overheard, “- is Rudolph? Some drunkard ex boyfriend of yours whom I ought to fight?” 

Remus, having made the mistake of taking another sip of hot chocolate, splutters and coughs, nearly sloshing the drink all over his hands. 

He’s lucky it’s cooled down while they were talking. 

“No. Merlin, no. You really don’t – I mean, you must know of Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer? The most famous of the eight flying reindeer pulling Santa Clause’s sleigh?” 

Now it’s Sirius turn to splutter a laugh. “Excuse me? Flying reindeer? What kind of weird alternative version of the story is that?” 

Remus feels increasingly annoyed. Even if this isn’t a joke, Sirius could have a little more respect for the lore of his favourite holiday. “The original one,” he says rather coolly. 

Sirius shakes his head with a small smile. 

“No, you’re making this up. Very funny though, I’ll give you that. But every child – and that includes me whose parents were anything but the storytelling type – knows it’s thestrals. Otherwise just about anyone including the muggles would be able to see them, which kind of spoils the whole purpose of an invisible sleigh, don’t you think?” 

It takes a moment for his words to settle in. Then Remus gasps. “Thestrals? You guys – I mean, pureblood wizards – were told that Santa’s sleigh is pulled by thestrals?” 

Sirius’ eyes narrow in puzzlement and indignation. “What do you mean, only we were told that?” 

“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling for assistance.” He stands, crumbs left behind by Harry cascading from his lap onto the floor, unnoticed. “Lily!” 

A yell answers from the kitchen. “I’m up to my elbows in a goose, Remus Lupin, this better be important!” 

Sirius bursts into laughter, but leaps to his feet when Remus starts shouting again. “I need you to come here and explain the true story of Christmas to Sirius!” 

“Oi! If you’re allowed a backup, then I am, too!” And he promptly hollers for James. 

The recently married couple appears nearly at the same time, though from different directions. 

Lily’s drying off her hands with a dish towel, jumper sleeves indeed rolled up to her elbows, and an apron with a print of tiny snitches and snowflakes tied around her waist. 

James’ nose is almost as red as Harry’s, his hat and glasses lopsided, and snow dusts his shoulders, contrasting his black coat and dark skin quite nicely. He turns back to the door that leads out into the garden as Peter calls for him to bring back a carrot for the snowman. 

“Sure thing, Wormy! – What’s on fire, guys?” 

Lily gives him a look. “Your special Potter family desert would be if I hadn’t gotten it out of the oven. I’m starting to think Harry should be on kitchen duty rather than you.” 

James blushes furiously and tugs off his gloves. “We didn’t mean to take so long. Besides, if you let me use magic it wouldn’t have needed baking at all,” he points out. 

“And I told you Christmas is magical enough without you jinxing our food!” 

Remus clears his throat. “As much as I enjoy seeing you bicker, we’ve got a rather pressing matter here.” 

“Has Sirius added fire whiskey to anything that’s not supposed to contain fire whiskey again?” James enquires casually, cleaning his glasses with the hem of his jumper. 

“What? No, not today. At least… I don’t think so?” 

Sirius suddenly seems very busy examining the crumbs on the floor so Remus rushes on to prevent Lily from noticing them. Finding out what food or drink Sirius has spiked this time can wait. 

“He doesn’t believe in Santa’s reindeer.” 

“What?” Lily exclaims at the same time that James asks, “Reindeer?” and Sirius cries, “Remus didn’t know it’s thestrals!” 

“Lily,” Remus cuts into the ruckus, “why is your child wearing antlers?” 

Lily looks around the room and stoops to pick up her baby son. (The cat seems relieved as it scurries away immediately.) 

“Well, because he’s my little Rudolph, obviously,” she says, fondly kissing his hand as he reaches to touch her face. 

James looks visibly upset at this statement, for some reason. 

Remus assumes he’s offended that the antlers aren’t a tribute to him after all before he says, “Lily, I know we didn’t agree on Harry at once, but he’s my son, too. Surely you need my consent to get his name legally changed?” 

Lily looks up at him with amusement written into her features before her face falls. 

“James, my dear – pun intended. James Fleamont Potter. You’re not honestly telling me you’ve never heard of Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer, leading Santa’s sleigh in the fog?” 

James’ clueless expression finally manages to convince Remus that this was not a prank on his behalf – he can’t keep a straight face like Sirius can (which is quite ironic, considering how so-not-straight the latter is). 

“That is,” he says eventually, “the most absurd story I’ve ever heard, and I’ve lived through three years of Remus making up excuses for why he was vanishing every month.” 

“Oi!” 

“You have to admit he’s right though,” Sirius says, moving to stand next to Remus and wrap an arm around his shoulders, evidently taking pity on him upon his exasperated face. 

Remus leans into him only reluctantly, ignoring the quip, and pleads Lily silently. 

She catches his eye and nods determinedly. “Right. Sit down, all of you.” 

James raises an eyebrow but seems to keen on pleasing Lily to argue. Remus even sees him cast a cleaning spell on the sofa out of the corner of his eye before they all sink into the cushions, Remus and Sirius cuddled close together and James with Harry on his lap on Sirius’ other side. 

Lily marches over to the bookshelf and scans it for a bit before pulling out a big red book of muggle Christmas tales. 

She sits down in the armchair next to the fire and opens it. 

“Now let’s see…” 

She flips a few pages, smiling when her eyes fall on the illustration of the story she was looking for. 

“I’m going to read to you the story of how Rudolph came to lead Santa Clause’s sleigh, and I will tolerate no interruptions,” she glances sharply at James and Sirius, who lean their heads against each other with bright, innocent smiles, “because this was my favourite story when I was a kid.” 

As Lily begins to read, all is quiet but the crackling fire. Her husband has wrapped one arm around Sirius, who in turn has pulled Remus close to rest against his chest. 

“Once upon a time, there lived at the North Pole a young reindeer named Rudolph. He was a lively, happy reindeer and loved playing in the snow. But one day, the other reindeer noticed that he had a very large, bright red nose…”

As Harry slowly begins to doze off against James’ chest and Sirius becomes increasingly more interested in playing with Remus’ hair than paying attention to the story, Remus finds himself whispering to his boyfriend. 

“I was wrong, you know?” 

“Hmm? No, you were right,” Sirius mutters back. “I mean, we were both right, I guess. We’d just heard different versions of the same story.” 

Remus sighs happily, feeling Sirius’ lips move against the shell of his ear, and closes his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I mean I was wrong before, when I said that it felt like Christmas. This, now, is what really feels like Christmas.” 

He can tell Sirius is trying to sound teasing, but the fondness in his voice is unmistakable and makes Remus feel as though there are softly crackling flames inside his own belly as well as in the fireplace. 

“You, Remus Lupin, are a right sap.” 

Remus merely smiles. He loves being right too much to argue against the truth. 


End file.
